What does your beer say about you?

With all the media circus over yesterday's "make up" beer session between Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Sergeant James Crowley, it's obviously a question on everyone's minds.

Apparently, among things, the beer you drink is a signifier for whether you are a self-syled elite or working class Joe, a patriot or a traitor to the Constitution.

According to New York Times columnist Eric Asimov, Obama chose Bud Light because, "like every Ivy League Democrat must battle the public impression that he’s an effete snob, [he] made the sensible political decision to go for an American everyman’s beer." But, Asimov (an effete snob himself, if there ever was one) goes on to explain that he should have picked a plain ole' Bud, lest he wanted to be perceived as "fussy" about his weight.

Well, folks, clearly this is one of those issues that Obama can't possibly win on. If he chooses a an All-American beer, like Bud or Bud Light, people accuse him of political theater and trying to appear to be blue collar. If he chooses, heaven forbid, a craft beer or a Belgian import, he risks Fox News calling him an East Coast liberal elite, or worse, some Benedict Arnold.

The irony in all of this, of course, is that Bud is now owned by InBev, the European beer conglomerate...

Which brings us to other interesting revelations that have come about from this weird episode in our nation's history:

1. U.S. Congressmen-especially ones you've never heard of--will seize upon any media opportunity to promote their local interests.

U.S. Representative Richard Neal of Massachusetts actually wrote a formal letter to President Obama today, chiding him for not drinking an American-owned beer, and offering the friendly suggestion that, next time, he choose a Sam Adams (coincidentally brewed in his district of Boston).

2. Craft beer aficionados are equally opportunistic and, dare I say it, shameless. One NPR commentator is reporting that many a hipster bartender shed a tear over Obama's "wasted opportunity" to champion the David vs. Goliath cause of micro-brews by choosing a small batch brewery's product.

3. Nerds will always find a way to make a nerdy graphic--in this case, a venn diagram--explaining the news, even if the news is about the role beer plays in political discourse.

Beer Summit

Uniting enemies and diffusing the Nation's collective racial tensions... how are we still lacking a post on this monumental occasion for beer tonight at the White House. Not that I want to divert any more attention to the incident in Cambridge but I had to get a word in about the prominence of beer in the latest twists of what is turning into a larger discourse on race.

On the menu are Bud Light (Obama), Blue Moon (Crowley) and Red Stripe (Gates). Obama should have selected Allagash White to complete the Stars and Stripes trifecta. More than that an American craft brewery could have received a shout out here since they we're handed any bailouts in the stimulus package.

Read or listen to more in this story on NPR.

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On the Road

Quick update from Venezia - poor internet access up in these regions, but the style and beauty of this place more than makes up for it. It's most definitely not beer culture around Venice; I've followed local example and quit the amber (or more likely, in these parts, a limpid yellow) liquid, moving into prosecco and Campari territory. There's one lone beer store I've found selling things you can find just about anywhere in the states, so I passed. Oh, well; the spritzes are so nice, anyway...

La Dolce Birra

Catherine and I are now in Rome, and seriously, I'm impressed with the Italian beer culture. Exhibit number 1: On our street, where our hotel is, there's a microbrew store that I've been frequenting every time we pass by. There's some good beers out here - I'll take the time to explain later, but we should take note of the advancements Italian microbrews have made in the past ten years or so.

Des nouvelles de biere

Since the last posting, we've been having a session. Winners: St. Rieul Brune sur lie (a fantastic Belgianish Stoutish brown, pours black, no head, tastes of espresso, figs, chocolate, but also the Belgian cloves and spices come out; beautiful), and Volcelest Brune (a nice, crisp, balanced, slightly hoppy brown ale, very refreshing and satisfying without making me slobber for more). Losers: Just barely losers, Garrigues La P’tite Bière (great initial taste but thin to the point of falling over like cardboard; refreshing for a summer day but didn't live up to the hoppy hype - Simon told me a great story about how at the end of the year they cleaned out all their remaining hops with this beer, but that must have been like ten hop pellets) and La Choulette Brune (not too bad, but kind of a medicine-and-dust combination that made me not want to finish the bottle.) Alright, back to tasting. It's a hard life.

For Vargo

Vargo, can you read this guy's shirt? Are they really traitors? That's what I will call them from now on. This was taken in front of the Paris Opera; this dude (fanny pack, pajama pants and all) was selling scarves on a Boulevard.

Paris, Je t'aime (ton bière)

Boucaneir at Le Sous-Bock

French Beers: The Mediocre and the Great

La Cave a Bulles: Best Beer Shop in France

Le Sous-Bock: Get any Major Microbrew You Want

Well, it's been a busy couple of days for us Breeds. Besides me fitting in a few hours a day to research my dissertation, we've walked all over this amazing city, sampled some great food, seen some amazing art and architecture, and rested our bones in beautiful gardens. What's more, we've gotten to try some amazing French brews. But, to be honest, it's actually hard to find the really good stuff on tap. We did get to Le Sous-Bock, the place described in Time magazine (in an article written by our own Ben Gerhardstein's cousin, no less) as a "Basque-country-themed tavern in Paris" with over 40 local microbrews. Well, they do have lots of beer, and they cook some good Basque food (especially their Axoa, a basque kind of goulash topped with crunchy potato wedges), but they didn't have much in the way of the real good French stuff. We ended up getting some Belgians that we didn't know about before, since Jenlain and Angelus seemed to be the most micro-brewy it got for French beers. (Also, they had Desperados, the margarita flavored beer of choice over here, but we declined). (Update: tried the Desperados. Tastes like a generic lime-flavored lollipop - you know, the kind banks have in fishbowls and cheap people hand out for halloween - melted on a hot sidewalk and then stirred into a glass of year-old Lipton tea.)

We ended up getting Bière Du Boucanier Golden Ale from Brouwerij Van Steenberge, Mort Subite ("Sudden Death") Oude Gueuze from Brouwerij De Keersmaeker, and Brugse Zot ("Crazy Bruggeian") by Brouwerij Straffe Hendrik. I liked all three quite a bit, but the Boucanier and Mort Subite were fantastic - the Zot was a bit thin and disappointing. The Boucanier was very alcohol-y, but in a good way: hot and spicy. The initial alcohol faded into cloves, herbs and even a touch of honey. It was fantastic... highly recommended. The Gueuze was a lambic-type beer that I've been getting into over here - kind of like a Flanders sour, similar to the good Duchesse. This particular Gueuze, the Mort Subite Oude, had that wild-yeast funk with a sharp cider and pear flavor. Mmmmm. So good for a summer night: a strong flavor but light, crisp, and dry.

So we were just ordering stuff we had never heard of, but it turns out you can get all of these at least somewhere in the States. Kind of a bummer, until I looked up the rest of the beer menu that I could remember. It turns out you could get most of them in the States. But that's the problem with even the best French beer restaurants: there's nothing but broad-distribution brews, even if they have a lot of beers available. It's like going to a beer bar in the states that says it has "microbrews" but that means Sierra Nevada, Sam Adams, and Magic Hat. I've given up on finding a Brick Store East.

However... I did find the Holy Grail of French beer: La Cave à Bulles.

Awesome street art in front of the Cave.

I only had a short window of time to get some beers and then meet back up with Catherine, so I peeled off and got to the store... only to find that he closes for a three-hour lunch (which I love) and was due to get back in ten minutes ago. Problem was, he wasn't back yet. I could tell this might be the case for some time, because a delivery dude was sitting there all frustrated with his beer. After twenty minutes or so, Simon the owner rode up on his bike and hurriedly opened the shop back up. I ran in and asked him a bunch of rapid-fire questions, which he was more than happy to answer. I had literally heard of maybe five beers out of the two hundred he had on hand. This is the beer-lover's dream: alone in a store full of medal-winning beers you've never even seen. It was a shame to only have fifteen or so minutes talking with the guy, since he knew everything about these beers - their stories, the region from which they came, the brewers, and even the people who import a small sliver of this stuff to the States. A full report of the beers is coming later, since I need to go at the moment, but suffice it to say that the Biere de Brie line from Ferme-Brasserie De Gaillon and the Page 24 line from Brasserie St. Germain are amazing... more to come.

Beerbucks? Starbeer?

Starbucks to drop their famous name and start serving beer? I'm skeptical.

The Louvre: Beer History

Not only did ancient Egyptians make beer; they made little models of people making beer. These models were put in a royal tomb in order to give the deceased servants in the afterlife. The idea was that these wooden models had a spirit that would enable them to do what they were pictured doing in the spirit-world. They had all sorts of models - for example, of boats, cattle herders, bakers, and, of course... beer brewers.

Here's a model from about 2000 BCE (or 4,000 years ago). These are beer brewers; the guys on the right are pounding out the grain, while a woman does something next to them (the model here is damaged). She's probably brewing the beer. Next to her is a big jar of grain and smaller vats of fermenting beer. Probably tasted like crap, but seriously, it's enough that they are making the stuff (but no hops, remember: that's not until the middle ages).

Below is another dude pressing a wet fermented bread-cake on to a filter over top of a jar. He's squeezing out the beer and leaving behind the grain. I am glad we don't brew like this today, or we might be using words like "putrid" and "insipid drivel" to describe our beer.

Dispatch from the City of Light (Beer)

Tonight, Catherine and I enjoyed an aperitif or two (or four) at Au Trappiste, a Belgian restaurant with a great beer selection in the middle of town. Just the thing to take the edge off of a day well spent in the Louvre...

Yes, you're correct, that sign above the name, "Au Trappiste," says "Royaume de de la Biere," or "Kingdom of Beer." That's my kind of oppressive totalitarianism.

So we pulled up some seats and found beers among the 20 or so on tap (not to mention the 100 or so in bottles) that we hadn't seen before. In the end, we had ourselves a Bush Prestige (at times this brewery releases in the US under the name Scaldis, or so BeerAdvocate tells me, even though this wasn't a Scaldis tripel), a Hanssens Gueuze, and an Angelus, a sweet little biere de garde (as well as a Duchesse de Bourgogne, for old time's sake.)

Here's the man pulling the pints.

Two things come to mind:

1. This is a great place - a nice, laid-back atmosphere, fantastic location in the middle of ancient Paris, etc. - but, even objectively, it's no Brick Store. The Belgian selection was great, but it made me that much more proud of our little Atlanta treasure. We've got more Belgians on tap and in the bottle than the best Belgian beer bar in Paris. I think that's saying something.

2. French craft beer is on the up-and-up. It's amazing that there are local producers out there who make something delicious but aren't to be found in most Parisian bars. Instead, everybody is drinking lighter, boring-looking beers (Kronenbourg's 1664 is everywhere). I mean, it's better than Bud being the staple beer, and Leffe is basically a low-tier beer here, appearing in 40-ounce cans in grocery stores, but the better French stuff is so hard to find. For example, the Angelus is really good - a bit sharp, but a full and complex flavor, quite a counterpoint to the French mainstay right now (called Desperado; and I hear it's quite awful, like kid-friendly beer, but French people can't get enough of the stuff. ) The Gueuze was really wonderful, had a kind of cider-like taste, and was a great sumer beer without sacrificing flavor or body, and the Bush is an excellent tripel - not something I'd order again if St. Bernardus or Karmeleit or Golden Carolus tripels/quads were on the menu, but really very good. And, of course, the good duchess was tasty as always.

So I'm still hopeful at this point in our trip. Haven't gotten to Cave à Bulles yet (that should be the high point, beer-wise, of our Paris leg), but it's on the agenda for tomorrow. Cheers!